A man comes forth. His image is that of importance. He rushes forward, a person in his arms. Impatience and urgency cloaks his fine features. Deep concern flows from his eyes into pools of excess compassion. He stops for a moment and looks down at the person in his arms. The person is scarred, bruised, and beaten. They carry the weight of a thousand down falls and still more await them. Their flesh is torn and mind polluted. Their breath comes in short, painful gasps. He knows he can wait no longer. He stops at many houses and knocks on the door, pleading with citizens to take his wounded solider in. His heart pounds harder and his steps increase into a run. He knows what will happen next. Blackness will take his burden. Blackness will take his love! Down the stairwell they will fall, away from him. Away from his grasp. He must find someone! Rain begins to fall and he struggles through the mud. His charge becomes restless in his arms, yet they do not open their eyes. Each moment is precious, slipping into oblivion like shards of broken class. He whispers softly to his burden. Wait, wait. Just a moment more.  

   Suddenly, he sees a group of people. One of them looks up, eyes shinning with a pleasant joy. The other three are bound together. At last he knows what he has found. He falls to his knees in front of two girls, looking at them intently. The girls kneel down near the deformed figure and look back up at him.

  "Take care of them for me. They are mine and I love them. All that you need will come in advance."

   He turns and leaves, knowing that the person he leaves behind is in the best care. So many thought that they were capable of taking someone like the person he held. Yet, it was the incapable he adored.



-This Christmas, don't judge. Don't judge appearance, background, words used, or history. Just reach out no matter how difficult it is.-